Cultural Contamination
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Missing scene from "Civilization". T'Pol observes the chemistry between Captain Archer and Riann. Phlox observes T'Pol.


Cultural Contamination

By Laura Schiller

Based on: _Star Trek: Enterprise_

Copyright: Paramount

/

"Doctor, may I have a moment of your time?"

Phlox reluctantly tore himself away from T'Pol's tricorder scans of the Akali woman's laboratory. He was enjoying it - this Riann was clearly an intelligent, hardworking scientist who was doing the best she could given her species' medieval technology – but the First Officer's question was more important. He looked up from his computer screen and smiled at T'Pol.

"Certainly, Subcommander. What can I do for you?"

T'Pol stood with her hands behind her back, looking dignified as ever in her old-fashioned Akali gown, but he thought he detected an extra stiffness in her posture as she looked down at the screen. It showed one of Riann's hand-drawn diagrams of an Akali skeleton, every bone precisely detailed.

"How much do these scans reveal to you about Akali anatomy?"

"Oh, a great deal, thank you! You and Ms. Riann have both been very helpful. I'm confident I'll discover the source of the virus within a day, perhaps even a cure."

"That is satisfactory," said T'Pol, in a toneless voice even by her standards, "But not my reason for asking."

She paused for a long moment. If she had been any other crewmember, Phlox would have sworn she was embarrassed – and she probably was. He had worked with Vulcans long enough by now to recognize the signs.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

"Are they … " She cleared her throat, another stalling tactic. "Would you be able to determine, based on these scans, whether Akali and humans are … physically … compatible?"

Now why would she ask such a bizarre question as that? He clicked over to the next image, one of a nude Akali female with a diagram next to it outlining the genitals. T'Pol's features did not change, but she looked away rapidly and took a step back. Aha – there was a clue.

"Sexually compatible, you mean?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her in a display of mock indignation. "Why, Subcommander, I'm surprised at you! Our shipmates would consider that impertinent, and _your_ people even more so."

The tips of T'Pol's ears, emerging from the long brunette wig she still wore, flushed olive green. "I left Captain Archer and Ms. Riann having tea together … alone."

"One doesn't necessarily lead to the other. Captain Archer's old enough to know how to behave."

"You did not see the way he looked at her." She muttered this deep in her throat, almost too quiet for him to hear, standing with her back turned. But when she swung around to meet his eyes, she was once again completely in control. "Need I remind you, Doctor, of what happened the last time one of our shipmates was attracted to an alien? I am merely being cautious – for all our sakes."

She was referring to Commander Tucker's pregnancy. From that point of view, her concerns were indeed logical.

"In that case," he said, "I'm sure it will be a relief to know that humans and Akali are indeed – as you say – compatible. Even their digestive systems are similar enough that the Captain will take no harm from Ms. Riann's tea."

"That much I know already," said T'Pol. "I scanned the pot as it was brewing."

Phlox couldn't help it – he smiled. The solemn way she said that was priceless. He stopped just short of patting her on the shoulder, knowing she wouldn't like it, and patted his computer screen instead.

"My goodness, Subcommander," he said, "Does he know how zealously you watch over his health?"

"It is my duty as his First Officer." Her eyebrows slanted into a warning angle. "And you must not tell him."

A rustle and a squeak from one of the cages reminded Phlox that it was almost feeding time for his animals. His two Pyrithian bats seemed especially eager, jostling each other until the leaves in their terrarium shook as if in a windstorm. The larger one knocked her companion off a branch and redoubled her squeaks as soon as she sensed Phlox approaching. The smaller one picked herself up off the floor, dazed.

"For pity's sake, calm down," he said. "No need to be jealous, hmm?"

"Doctor?" said T'Pol, managing in that uniquely Vulcan way to sound both emotionless and deeply offended.

"Excuse me, Subcommander. I was, uh, talking to the bats."

"Indeed." Refraining (for once) from making any comment on how illogical it was to speak to a lower life form, she nodded at him and turned to leave. "Keep me updated on your progress with the virus."

"I will," said Phlox as he selected a fat, juicy worm from the box. "Oh, and by the way … "

"Yes?"

He opened the terrarium and dropped the worm in front of the smaller bat, who pounced on it and slurped it like a noodle. Her big sister swooped in to steal it, but Phlox dropped another worm just in time.

"Have you ever considered inviting the Captain for – ahem - a 'cup of tea' yourself?"

T'Pol shot him a look of pure contempt and walked out of Sickbay in silence, her long skirt and hair swishing as she went.

"I'll take that as a no," Phlox chuckled as soon as the doors were closed. "Too bad."

Humans. Vulcans. Each more complicated than the next when it came to intimacy. Gods, how he missed his wives and fellow-husbands sometimes.

Things were so much simpler on Denobula.


End file.
